Kouyuu's Ghost
by Kitori
Summary: Kouyuu, newly adopted and plagued by nightmares, realizes a malevolent Kou ghost is dying to get rid of him. Li Kouyuu, Kou Reishin, Kou Shouka.


Kouyuu's Ghost  
by Thierrys 

Kouyuu jerked awake. The nightmare had been very real this time, and he had to squint at his fingers to make sure the blood was gone. As his breathing slowed, he became aware of another presence in the room. Someone was breathing steadily beside his bed. Kouyuu's heart began to pound. He could hear footsteps crossing the room, back and forth, back and forth. Somewhere outside an owl hooted, and Kouyuu got up the courage to slit his eyes open and peer around.

No one was there.

That was when Kouyuu first found out about the ghost.

"A ghost?" asked Shouka-sama, setting a tray of peach buns onto the table. He poured a cup of tea and pushed it towards Kouyuu, who ignored it and reached for a peach bun.

"Yes," he confirmed. "A really strong one. It even broke my ghost-trap." He didn't mention that Reishin had destroyed what was left of it, shaking the coin-strung twine at Kouyuu and shouting that if Kouyuu were intent on breaking somebody's neck, he should jump off a bridge. Maybe the large bruise blooming across his forehead had put him in a bad mood.

Shouka hmmed thoughtfully. "I was under the impression that ghosts don't exist," he confessed, pushing the teacup further towards Kouyuu.

"That's what I thought," Kouyuu agreed, taking a large bite. "But it's definitely a ghost. The servants don't come into my room when I'm there, and the guards said they haven't seen anybody. Not that adults can see ghosts anyway," he added scornfully.

Shouka suppressed a smile at the thought of his new nephew grilling Reishin's guards. "What sort of things does the ghost do?"

"It moves my things around a lot. He took all the books off my floor and put them on my desk, even the book I put under my pillow! It opens and shuts the windows, and it even stole the food I took from the kitchens—" Kouyuu broke off, embarrassed. "Just in case, you know," he explained hastily.

Shouka nodded gravely. "Go on."

"Well," Kouyuu hesitated, taking another peach bun and breaking a piece off. "Sometimes it gives me nightmares."

"Nightmares?" Shouka leaned slightly forward. "What kind of nightmares?"

Kouyuu shrugged uncomfortably. "Just nightmares. I think it wants me to leave," he added quietly.

"Leave the Kou house?"

Kouyuu nodded.

Shouka swirled his cup thoughtfully, watching the whirl of the flecks of tea. "It's been five months since Reishin brought you home," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Why would the ghost wait until now to start trying to drive you away?"

"The nightmares started before I knew about the ghost," Kouyuu admitted.

Shouka set his cup down. "It sounds like you need to research." Kouyuu nodded eagerly. "Alright, finish your tea and follow me." Shouka stood and disappeared down one of the long aisles of books.

Kouyuu discreetly emptied his teacup into a potted plant, stuffed an extra peach bun into his pocket, and hurried after Shouka.

The book Shouka gave him was ancient, with a frayed binding and sheets coming loose. Each page was as delicate as a moth's wing, and filled with tales and descriptions of ghosts and monsters and all manner of otherworldly creatures. Each entry was detailed with elaborate inked illustrations. The book was, as Kouyuu had argued, for children, but Shouka had pointed out that since adults couldn't see ghosts, of _course_ the book would be for children.

Kouyuu had been absorbed in it for hours, absolutely fascinated. It had an entire chapter devoted to yuurei, walking souls who could be anyone from mischievous children to vengeful aristocrats to sailors who had been lost at sea. There were also the kappa, scaly river creatures that lured people into water and pulled their intestines out through their bottoms, and the tengu, ugly, malicious forest creatures who loved nothing more than playing nasty tricks on unsuspecting travelers.

"What garbage are you reading now?" Reishin demanded, peering over Kouyuu's shoulder at a drawing of a long-necked qilin, its antlered dragon's face twisted to snap at its scaly, tufted tail. Kouyuu let him scan the page critically. "You don't need to be filling your head with that rubbish."

"But it's interesting," Kouyuu protested.

"It's poppycock," Reishin responded dismissively. "If you aren't reading something that will improve your mind, go outside and get some exercise. You look as if you haven't slept in a week."

With a sigh, Kouyuu set down the book. Obviously Reishin-sama had never experienced ghosts, but then, Reishin had probably never been unwanted in his life. At least Kouyuu had a good idea of what he had to do about the ghost.

"Can I go to the river and fly the kite Kurou-sama gave me?" he asked.

Reishin waved a fan irritably at him. "Do whatever you want, just don't get lost."

The meadow was in full summer bloom as Kouyuu tromped across the grass, yellow kite in hand. Bees hummed lazily and the river, sky blue and ice cold, rushed along noisily. Kouyuu's path followed the river's; one of the kitchen maids had whispered to him of strange happenings along the banks, where a Kou princess had drowned long ago. He suspected she was telling him tales (_women!_), but the lead was the best he could find. According to his book, he had to find the spot where the ghost had died, scatter an assortment of dried flower petals, and recite a chant. With luck, the ghost would be appeased and decide to leave Kouyuu alone.

Kouyuu followed the riverbank at a brisk trot. After a while, he slowed to a walk. The day stretched out into hours of golden sunlight, and the humming of the cicadas began to lull Kouyuu into a state of drowsiness. A nap in the grass wouldn't hurt, maybe, and he hadn't been sleeping well since the nightmares had started. A short nap, then.

Cold licks of wind roused Kouyuu . He shivered into wakefulness, dispersing the last cobwebs of the strange dream he'd been having. He didn't know how much time had passed, but the air had grown cool and brisk, and the sky was a chilly shade of grey and beginning to rain. A good time to leave.

Kouyuu strained his eyes. The place he was looking for, an aging wooden bridge, was a quarter of a mile up ahead. He retrieved his kite, which the wind was teasing haltingly through the grass, and covered the remaining distance at a jog. Picking his way through the bobbing flowers, Kouyuu stepped carefully onto the grey, creaking wood and leaned over the edge. Reciting the words of the incantation, he released a shower of fading petals into the clear water, where they were swiftly borne away by the rapid current. Now he just had to wait for a sign.

He had it a moment later, when the bridge collapsed beneath his weight. He plunged into the cold river, still gripping the kite. He heard it snap into splinters as the current shoved them against a rock, and prayed he wasn't next. Kouyuu struggled to keep his head above water, but the current stubbornly pushed him under, deeper and deeper beneath the surface. To his horror, he could feel cold fingers dragging him down. _Kappa_, was his terrified thought, as a sharp stab of pain tore through his stomach. He tried to scream but choked instead. Riverwater flooded his nostrils, his throat, and the heavy brocade of his robes stymied the wild thrashing of his limbs and weighed him down. Barely able to tell up from down, Kouyuu managed to catch sight of the pale sky, the sunlight ephemerally flickering through the water. He was sinking further and further away from it. The thought occurred to him, distantly, that he was going to die.

A misty apparition loomed above him, its distant features obscured by the water. Slowly they coalesced to form a body. It had a face, blue and bloated, with wide, hollow eyes and mouth twisted into a ghastly smiling rictus. Its robes, murky red, slowly fluttered as if caught in the wind. It reached out, arms stretching beyond a length that was anything near human. Pale, fat fingers closed around Kouyuu's shoulders, pulling him closer, closer…

"Kouyuu, wake up," a voice commanded, and he did, with a jolt. Opening his eyes sent a lance of pain through his skull, met by a chorus of complaints from the rest of his body.

"Reishin-sama?" he asked, as a blurred face came into his line of vision.

"He's here," was the gentle reply, as the face came into focus. It was Shouka-sama. Kouyuu had never noticed how alike they looked. Surprised, Kouyuu realized that he was in his own bed back at the Kou manor, wrapped in layers of blankets. Shouka was seated at his bedside, a pot of tea steaming at his elbow. Reishin-sama was standing at the back of the room, lips pressed into a tight line.

Shouka helped Kouyuu to sit up. "We were both very worried," he told him, pressing a teacup into Kouyuu's shaking hands. "You've been asleep all evening. How do you feel?"

All evening? Kouyuu's eyes slid to the window, where the sills framed a dark sky. He sipped the tea, not bothering to hide his grimace. As for how he felt…maybe he'd been better off drowning. His head was relentlessly pounding, his throat was worn and scratchy as if from screams, and his stomach was alive with sharp tingles. He shivered, remembering the kappa, then found he couldn't stop.

"Did you pull me from the river?" he asked, allowing Shouka to take the teacup and rewrap him in the blankets. He pressed his forehead into the pillow in an effort to sooth the headache.

Shouka's brows knit. "We found you sleeping in the field. It started to rain," he paused to touch the back of Kouyuu's neck. "It gave you a chill."

"I fell in the river," Kouyuu insisted, rubbing his throat. "There were kappa. I'm not lying," he said forcefully, as Shouka shot Reishin a worried look. "The bridge broke and I fell in!" His head was throbbing so much he could feel his pulse. He closed his eyes and was nearly overcome by a spell of dizziness.

"Don't be such a fool!" Reishin finally spoke up, his voice sharp with anger. "I don't know what possessed you to go gallivanting off to a river and take a _nap_, of all things, but I gave you credit for having the sense to come in out of the rain! Your clothing is completely ruined, you've lost the kite your uncle gave you – I have never met a more thoughtless child in my life!" He drew breath to go on, but Shouka stopped him with a look and a shake of his head.

Kouyuu clenched his fists around the blankets, pretending there weren't tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said miserably, hanging his head. He hadn't meant to do any of those things. Couldn't Reishin see that it had been an accident? He tried to slow his breathing but it began to hitch. "I'm really sorry."

Reishin's glare widened into panic as Kouyuu covered his face and began to sob quietly. "As long as it doesn't happen again," he said sternly, though the effect was ruined by the awkward gestures he was making in an attempt to comfort his son without actually going near him. "Stop crying!"

"I broke Kurou's kite," Kouyuu rubbed his eyes against his sleeve. "The bridge broke and I fell in, and the kite got smashed." He looked up at Reishin tearfully.

"There's no bridge," Reishin countered agitatedly. "You just fell asleep and the wind blew it away. I'm sure it could happen to anybody." He looked at Shouka desperately.

Shouka ran his hand gently through Kouyuu's damp hair. "Why don't you go back to sleep?" he suggested softly. "A good night's rest is what you need." He tucked Kouyuu back into the covers, frowning as his hand brushed against Kouyuu's forehead. "Let him sleep for the rest of the night," he said to Reishin. "If he's not feeling better by morning, you may need to send for a doctor."

Kouyuu was not better the next day, and by noon Reishin had sent for Dr. Tou, the court physician. A fever was coursing its way through Kouyuu's body, brought on by an afternoon spent soaking wet in the cold, made worse by the fact that he apparently hadn't been sleeping well for months.

"His body's not able to handle this right now," Dr. Tou had explained, prescribing a spicy herbal tea to ward off headaches, tiger bones for his chills and to soothe his stomach cramps, and refrainment from reading or going outside. "And plenty of bedrest," he added severely, to which Kouyuu had nodded meekly, thinking longingly of his ghost book.

Not that he could have read it anyway. Between his long hours of sleep and strange dreams, intervals of tossing and curling in on himself, Kouyuu was rarely cognizant of anything outside of his own inner consciousness. Cool hands would smooth his covers, rub his back, and always he was aware of the slow, measured footsteps pacing across his room.

One time he awoke to find a tiny stack of Dragon Beard candies scattered across his nightstand. A kindly servant had left them, maybe, or – his thoughts began to drift into sandy dream-thoughts – an ubume, mistaking Kouyuu for her own long-gone children. He pressed the spun sugar to the roof of his mouth, and drifted into sleep even before it had finished dissolving into lingering sweetness.

After nearly a week of being bedridden, Kouyuu's fever finally began to dissipate. Shouka came to visit him one afternoon, which was more than Reishin had bothered to do. Kouyuu was able to sit up and greet him, although he was still too weak to hold the teacup Shouka offered him.

"You're looking well," Shouka greeted him. Kouyuu could tell he was lying – his eyes felt bruised and his hair hung damp and loose.

"Shouka-sama, I can't find my book," he said worriedly. "I think the ghost stole it."

Shouka took a sip of tea. "I was under the impression you aren't allowed to read until you're better."

"I need to do an exorcism," Kouyuu explained, shifting uneasily. "The ghost is what's making me sick, and if I don't kill it I'll die."

Shouka sighed. "Kouyuu, there's something I need to discuss with you." He put his teacup down and waited for Kouyuu to stop fidgeting and give him his full attention. "I'm not sure that there's a ghost trying to hurt you."

Kouyuu was silent for a moment. "You think I'm making it up?" he asked finally, in a hurt tone.

"No, nothing like that. It's just…" Shouka paused. "_Oya no kokoro ko shirazu_. Sometimes we think people are trying to hurt us, when they're really trying to help." He met his nephew's eyes.

Kouyuu frowned. "But the ghost gives me nightmares. I saw it in the river. It even comes at night to make me sick."

Shouka shook his head, at a loss to how to phrase his thoughts. "Didn't you tell me the nightmares started before this person began visiting you at night? Doesn't he leave you candy and shut the windows when it gets cold at night?" Kouyuu's expression became thoughtful.

"You think it's trying to… make me feel better?" Kouyuu asked slowly, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was saying. His brows furrowed. "It's comforting me from the nightmares? It –" he clapped a hand across his mouth. "It rescued me from the river!"

"Well, I don't know about that," Shouka said, a little hastily. "I think," he continued, "that he's probably a very nice person, who just seems a little scary to people who don't know him very well."

Kouyuu nodded. "Maybe it took the book so I wouldn't exorcize him before I realized that."

Shouka smiled. "Well, as to that – " he glanced over at the doorway, where Reishin was hovering with an uncertain expression. "I think your father can give you an explanation." He rose, taking the tea service with him. "I hope you feel better, Kouyuu."

"Good-bye," said Kouyuu in a small voice, the relief he felt at the revelation about the ghost diminishing as Reishin reluctantly entered the room and approached Kouyuu's bed. He was holding something bulky behind his back, and looked as if he'd much rather be someplace else.

"Good afternoon," Kouyuu said uncertainly.

Reishin frowned at him. "I have something for you," he said abruptly, apparently deciding to cut to the chase. He pulled the object out from behind his robes and perched it against the bed. Kouyuu stared at it in awe.

It was a kite, though it seemed wrong to call it that. It could be called a kite, in the way the Zijin Cheng could be called a house, or a typhoon could be called a storm. Silk and strong, it had a fine bamboo frame and a tail jointed with wooden whistles. Most impressive of all, though, was its sail. It was alive with color and teeming with ghouls and gods and monsters. Vivid green kappa lurked along its borders, harried by a huanglong, whose tiny scales were tipped with gold. A hideous red oni was devouring a human leg, and at his side stooped a wrinkled azukibabaa, her delighted sharp-toothed smile accenting the cruel tilt of her eyes. There were more, blue lanterns and faceless women and glowing white cranes, and there, in the center, demons cowered in fear of a yellow and black creature with an elephant's trunk and tigerpaws. Its nine ox-tails lashed as it chewed the neck of a screaming kappa. It was Baku, eater of nightmares.

"If you don't want it," Reishin said as Kouyuu stared at the kite in rapt wonder, "I can throw it away." He had concealed his face with a fan once more, though he remained unaware of the colorful streaks staining his fingertips.

Kouyuu tore his gaze from the kite and looked up at his father. His face fairly glowed with adoration. "Thank you, Reishin-sama! It's beautiful! It's –I don't know what to --"

"I suppose," Reishin interrupted, looking away, "that if you see fit to stop inconveniencing everyone with your illness, we might test it out in the meadow."

"I'm better now," Kouyuu said eagerly. Reishin shot him a scornful look.

"Later," he said succinctly. "And in the meanwhile, I'm sure you're capable of harassing someone into reading that silly book to you. It's been in my study, so your little tantrum was quite unnecessary."

If he expected a response, he was disappointed; Kouyuu had already gone back to his spellbound study of the kite.

The floorboards creaked gently as a slow gait crossed the chamber to close the window and draw the curtains against the bright spill of moonlight. The footsteps returned to Kouyuu's bed, where he lay with closed eyes and slow, even breaths. Cool hands tucked the covers more closely around his chin. Nobody heard the quiet slide of the closing door, or saw the tiny smile that crossed Kouyuu's features. The ghost's hands had smelled, just faintly, of spun sugar and paint.

The End.


End file.
